The Kids and the Sociopath
by jamRULZ.the sequel
Summary: Used to be jamRULZ. Two months after the fire, Dean, John, and Sam go to London to visit someone who was close to Mary. However, when John decides to go back to America for answers, Dean and Sam stay behind. What happens when the boys catch the interest of one Sherlock Holmes?
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Sherlock or Supernatural. They both belong to their creators. Also, I messed with the timestreams a little

Dean laid down in the back seat of the Impala, his baby brother cradled against his chest. Sammy's soft, even breaths usually lulled the boy to sleep, but he was far from tired. His dad said that they were going on a plane. Dean shuddered involuntary, clutching Sam closer. Sam gurgled and smacked his lips, blinking his eyes open for a minute before nestling back into sleep.

Dean giggled softly then looked at his father through the front seat window. He truly didn't know who his father was right now. He missed the man who used to play football with him, watch cartoons with him, and who read to him at night. That man was no longer around, not since Mo-.

Deans' eyes filled with tears and a whimper let out automatically. It's been two months since his mom died and he still felt like it was yesterday. He'll never be held by her or be given peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made by her and her love ever again. Sammy would never have any memory of their mother; he wouldn't even know how much she loved Sam.

 _I'll love him like you did Mommy. I promise._ _I wish you were here._

"Daddy?" John grunted in surprise then turned toward his son, "Yeah, buddy?"

"Why are we going on a plane?" John gave his son a sad smile and murmured, "We're going to see someone who knew Mommy, ok? She's a very kind-hearted woman. We need a change of pace for now, okay little buddy?"

Dean nodded solemnly, "Okay, Daddy." John nodded at him and Dean let out a ghost of a smile. The boy turned and curled around Sam protectively, closing his eyes. Johns' heart filled with tenderness as he watched his younger son unconsciously fist the toddlers' shirt. John looked up at the sky, his voice reflecting the pain he felt in his heart.

 _Mary…_

….

"Mrs. Watson, thank you so much for seeing us. I just wish it wasn't under these circumstances."

Mrs. Watson smiled sadly at John and his two sons. "It's no trouble at all, dear. I'm so sorry about Mary. She was a sweet girl-real bright and curious." John nodded, a little mixture of nostalgia, love, and grief in his eyes. Mrs. Hudson moved her gaze from John to the little boy hiding behind Johns' back, eyes suspicious and frightened.

"Hello, Dearest. What's your name?" Dean looked up at his father for reassurance and when John nodded, Dean whispered, "Dean Winchester, ma'am." Mrs. Hudson felt her heart break at the lost tone that no boy should use at the age Dean was.

"Well Dean. Want to have some cookies?" Dean nodded, staring down at his hands. Mrs. Hudson gently held out her hand and Dean took it (after some encouragement from his father). Mrs. Hudson smiled sadly at the child, then turned to John again.

"Is there anything I can do for you, John?" The man looked at his four year old then turned toward the baby in his arms. John bit his lip in indecision, then turned to Mrs. Hudson.

"Actually…can you allow a couple more tenants?"

…

"But, Daddy, I don't want you to go away. Why can't Sammy and I come too?" John sighed and knelt down in front of his son.

"Dean, Daddy is just going back home for a while. I need to find out about something. I'll be back for you soon. Take care of Sammy for me, okay, buddy?" Dean nodded, sniffling.

"I will, Daddy." Dean and John hugged quickly and the boy turned and went to Mrs. Hudson, gripping onto her skirt. Sammy was in Mrs. Hudsons' arms, enjoying the bottle of milk that was given to him before John left. John got into the waiting taxi and waved goodbye.

….

"Now, Sweetheart, this is you and your brothers' room. I think I still have my childs' cradle that could be used for a bed. Can you watch him for me?" Dean nodded, sat down on the floor, and held his arms out for his baby brother.

"MRS. HUDSON!"

Mrs. Hudson let out a small gasp, and murmured, "Oh my." She turned around and a tall man with dark, curly hair, pale skin, and blue-green eyes appeared in the doorway. He looked like someone who was jittery and yet doesn't move much at the same time.

"I need a case, Mrs. Hudson. I don't care what it is! I just need-oh." Dean ducked his head, feeling the intense stare on his head. Dean felt hot and kept his mind off the strange man by letting Sam play with his fingers.

"Who is that child, Mrs. Hudson?"

Dean started when he felt a gentle hand atop his head. "This is Dean Winchester and his little brother, Sam. They're the sons of a dear friend of mine." She turned down toward Dean, "Dean, this is Sherlock Holmes."


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean, honey, can you say hello to Sherlock?"

Dean looked up at the intense stare and whispered a shy greeting. He flinched when he felt a hand touch his hair and he gulped as blue-green eyes met his own.

"Well, well, and American too. Interesting. Where are your parents?"

Dean sniffled and looked down at his cooing brother.

"Sherlock, you're not."

"Mrs. Hudson, can you make me some tea? A bit of biscuits would be good as well, you know how John is." Mrs. Hudson rolled her eyes at Sherlocks' obvious attempt to shoo her from the room, but decided to walk to the kitchen, but not before muttering, "Not your housekeeper."

Sherlock smiled after her and murmured, " 'Course you're not." Schooling his face into an emotionless mask, he turned back to the children. "Your parents?" Dean sniffled, eyes watering at the thought of his mother before looking at the man.

"M-Mommy is in Heaven. D-Daddy went to look into something. He said he won't be back for a few m-months." Sherlock pressed his hands together and pressed his fingertips against his lips, eyes still staring intently. Dean gulped, feeling a little fear at the unusual amount of rapt attention that was settled on him.

A loud thump sounded along with harsh muttering. The stomps sounded louder and louder along with the muttering that started to sound a lot like swearing. Minutes later, a man came storming up the stairs, arms full of bags. Not noticing the children, he went off.

"Sherlock, why are you yelling?! People out in the street are going to think we are being _murdered_!" While he was yelling, the man noticed Sherlock indicating the child and baby seated beside the crib. The man turned toward them, mid-yell, "Why the he….ck are you doing such a thing?!"

Sherlock turned toward the children, "Dean, this is my friend, John Watson. John, this is Dean Winchester." The blond let out a tense smile, holding out a hand.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean gripped onto his brother, the baby gurgling uncomfortably as he felt the squeeze. He smiled at John a bit shyly.

John turned back toward his friend, "Say Sherlock, can you come to the kitchen with me? There's a new tea I need your opinion on." Without giving his friend a chance to answer, he gripped onto Sherlock's sleeve and pulled him through the door.

…..

"Sherlock, you didn't." Sherlock gazed at John with a hint of confusion in his otherwise blank eyes.

"What, John?"

"You didn't kidnap these children, did you? You're not that desperate, right?"

"Course not." John raised an eyebrow. "I didn't…" John sighed at the obvious whining from the detective.

"Well, where did they come from?"

Sherlock went to the cupboard and took out a package of tea, "I only heard that they're the children of a friend of Mrs. Hudson." Handing the tea to John, he continued, "Can you please start this, I heard it's recommended to calm children."

John gaped after the detective who walked back to where Dean and Sam were. Scoffing in exasperation, John went looking for a kettle.


End file.
